District Two Stars Don't Cross
by CatchthePetals
Summary: District Two. Sometimes expectations shape you into who you don't want to be, who you swore you'd never become. A story from Clove's perspective and her struggle of fighting against all she's ever known to grasp something far more precious- even if just for a moment and even if it costs her whole world. Clove/Cato. Clove/Finnick. Clove/Gale. Rated T for now.
1. Chapter 1

Reaping Day.

I dressed simply, because although I was seventeen and of age, I knew that I wasn't going this year. There was no need to look dressed-up when I clearly wasn't going to get any camera time, as there were too many girls lined up, all vying for the chance to represent District 2 in the arena.

The professors had already chosen the tributes for the year: Cato Riley and Ariana RosaLynn.

Both were eighteen years old and the most popular, strong, and intelligent students in our class of nearly seven hundred, all of us training to become the top students and claim our spots as tributes.

Ariana and I absolutely and passionately hated each other and were constantly competing out of pure spite, but this year she won her place as the number one student fair and square, and I lagged in second. Thus, I was obligated to allow her to volunteer as tribute.

A part of me was indignant, because I knew that although Ariana was incredibly skilled and a brilliant strategist, she couldn't perform under pressure and her instincts were anything but quick.

But the other part of me was so very relieved because if I had won this year that meant that I would have to go up against Cato… which meant certain death.

Not only because he was physically fitter and far more capable as a warrior and a survivor, but because… against my own interest, I admit I'd probably let him win.

Because even though I'm just another face to him, one ugly duckling amongst hundreds of swans admiring him, if it comes down to it, I don't think I can kill Cato.

It's not love, I think, but… well, I don't exactly know. All I know is, I'm thankful not to have to be in the arena with him. Maybe that's why I failed so badly on that last physical exam.

I say good-bye to my mother, who doesn't bother to come since she knows I won't be the tribute. The Reaping ceremony is popular in District Two, so none of the Peacekeepers will care if a few adults aren't present. My parents are extremely disappointed I didn't come in first. I promised them next year, and thought to myself, when Cato's won and can't be selected for the games anymore, I'll go.

I meet two of my friends at the front of a small bakery, Valentine and Iris. They're both my age and the three of us have been friends for quite some time now.

"It's Ariana for the girls this year, right?" Iris asks, more as a conversation starter than a true question. Everyone obviously knows its Ariana.

I nod shortly and keep my expression neutral as Valentine says, "Lucky her, getting to live a dream come true. It's a pity you ranked second instead of first, Clove. It could have been you with all the fame and glory and riches."

I shrug and reply simply, "Next year."

We get in line behind a group of boys, who are all jostling each other and laughing.

Right away, I notice Cato, getting all sorts of jokes and compliments from his mates, whom I recognize as Jaymes, Skylar, and D.A.

"Man, can you just imagine how rich you're going to be after this? And how much people will respect you?" D.A. was saying, slapping Cato in the back, "It's going to be so awesome. Like the professors always tell us about at school."

Cato smiles arrogantly, a half-smile, a smirk.

"Think about all the chicks!" Skylar adds, "You'll get to pick whoever you want as victor."

I wonder who will he pick when he comes back? Most likely the mayor's daughter, who happens to be Valentine. Valentine is a gorgeous girl, bright, and has stunning eyes and a charming smile. Or maybe Alexia, the most musically talented girl with a perfect figure and a carefree, attractive personality. I drop my eyes from Cato, trying not to think about how far apart _we_ are.

He's a confident champion, an awe-inspiring victor with so many opportunities in front of him, filled with riches and fame and adoration.

And as for me, well… I could never be those things.

Next year, I tell myself, next year we'll be a bit closer. I'll catch up to him next year.

"Welcome to Reaping Day!" a tall man with golden glasses and bright orange curls announces in that strange Capitol accent.

I tune out as he repeats the history of Panem, accompanied by a video. I've seen this too many times. I sneak a glance at Ariana, who is standing tall, chin up, eyes alight, looking intently at the screen. I look over behind my shoulder at Cato, who is standing in a similar pose.

"May the odds be ever in your favor!" are the words that draw my attention back to the stage.

"Ladies first!" he says brightly and reaches in to pull out a name.

He unfolds the paper, but I am already disinterested.

He's going to call someone's name, Ariana will volunteer. And that's that.

"Clove Ivy!"

I start at little at hearing my name, but the calm settles in quickly.

Ariana, go for it, I think.

And I stand there for a moment until it hits me that- _no one's saying anything._

And it takes me another long second to comprehend the silence- _that means I'm going into the arena!_

"Well, come on up!" the man calls from the stage.

Shock has rendered me motionless, I feel like my legs are weak jelly.

I can't-

"Why isn't she volunteering?" Iris whispers loudly to me, but I just shake my head.

"Ms. Ivy, up now, please!" the man says, more urgently.

I look around me, sure this is a dream or at the very least, a mistake. People are all confused, eyebrows furrowed together, most are staring pointedly at Ariana, someone even reaches over and pokes her, but she ignores them all, her chin still up high and then her eyes meet mine.

Her eyes narrow, burn into mine, and suddenly it all becomes crystal clear.

She wants me to go into that arena.

She wants to see me slaughtered, maybe even tortured.

In defiance, I react by lifting my head up high and smirking at her.

Though I'm trembling inside, I confidently begin to march up to the stage.

You think this is going to make me afraid? Hell, its fine with me if you waste away your precious chance to be a tribute for the Hunger Games. Why'd you even work so hard?

"There we go" the man says, sounding relieved, as I climb up the steps towards the center of the stage. My eyes never leave Ariana's, challenging her. It'll take it gratefully, you little-

"And now, the men!"

I barely pay attention as neither Ariana nor I break our eye contact.

Someone's name is called, someone I probably know but don't care to remember, something like "Aiden Cross", but my gaze never breaks from Ariana.

"I volunteer!" a strong, brave voice called immediately.

And suddenly that familiar voice breaks through my competition with Ariana.

Because I'd forgotten for a brief moment.

My eyes trace down the stage to the feet and then to the face of the boy who'd just volunteered as tribute.

Cato.

Cato's my fellow tribute.

And now, it's absolutely certain that one of us will die.

We're made to shake hands but I don't meet his eyes, and yet, because I have to look strong, I look past him, as though he is no concern of mine.

I see his eyebrows furrow and I know he can't possibly understand. Great, he probably thinks I'm a haughty bitch.

Wonderful, maybe that'll make it easier for him to kill me later.

We're pushed off stage into separate rooms then and I'm in a room alone.

And that's when the full impact of what I have to do hits me.

I start to shiver and once I start, I can't seem to stop.

_I'm going into the Hunger Games._

In the next room, I hear the door creak open and close, and I guess that Cato's parents are here to visit him.

Parents… my mother never expected me to be drawn, so she probably has no idea… no clue that this is the last hour we have to see each other.

The shaking gets worse. I grip my hands into fists and cross my arms tightly.

I am Clove Ivy and there's no way I'm going to let this affect me so severely.

I trained for this and I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

I take a deep breath and then close off the door to emotions, family, love, friends, happiness, girlishness, I'm Clove Ivy and I know how to kill.


	2. Chapter 2

Our hour is up and I'm ushered onto the train with Cato, and the awkwardness sets in again as we take seats next to each other.

"I'm Cato" he finally says after several minutes of silence.

"Clove" I reply, staring straight ahead. I'm not sure why, but I feel that if I look at him now, the trembling might start again.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him raise an eyebrow. He's probably not used to such hostility from a girl. Boys always ignore him, out of jealously and out of fear… But girls? No, they're usually too busy adoring him to be hostile to him. I would know.

"Wasn't Ariana supposed to be the tribute?" he asked me.

"I thought so too" I said shortly, and paused before adding, "Right up until I became tribute."

Cato falls back in his chair, and I'm tempted to turn around and gaze at his face to see what he's thinking about, when suddenly the doors to the train compartment open.

We instinctively stand on our feet in defensive positions, but I recognize the six people who walk in right away. There's our announcer, the tall man with glasses and orange hair. And then there's our mentors, the previous victors, five of them.

The first is Elgar, who is now seventy-three years old. He is tall, stern, unflinching, and his eyes and demeanor are all together elegant, focused, and quite unforgiving. He reminds me of a brilliant but frightening professor, his powerful and almost savage strength unrestricted from the confines of his mind. What is occurring behind those golden glasses, I can't read. It makes me uneasy.

Secondly is Arcadius, a thirty-two year old man dressed in long and brilliantly red robes with a savage smirk and quite a fit physique. He was probably good-looking by most female standards, but far too muscular for my taste. In District 2, he's a complete hero, though, famous for taking down thirteen out of twenty-three opponents all by himself within one week with a broadsword and a longspear.

Third is Maudrick, who is twenty-eight or twenty-nine, I don't remember. He's actually from my neighborhood, but that was a while ago and he doesn't have any offspring. He's dressed like a ranger, slightly wolf-like, with haunting storm grey eyes. His long brown hair is tied back in a very messy ponytail and though he's not exactly dirty, he's not exactly dressed up and tidy, either. He's looking at his nails as he enters, not paying attention to me or Cato.

Fourth is a woman and the only woman amongst the mentors, Athena. She's short, even for a woman, but her muscular physique cannot be mistaken. Her face is also quite stern, like Elgar's, and her long brown hair is pulled up in a no-nonsense bun. She's young, only twenty-four and very pretty. I vaguely recall her Hunger Games, which were not too long ago. She'd displayed a fantastic skill of both long range and hand-to-hand combat and brilliant strategy and had won within five days.

And fifth is Artemis, often referred to as everything a victor should be. Slightly somber and serious, but not unforgiving and not judgmental and always the picture of politeness and powerful grace. Humble, but obviously confident and strong. At age twenty-three, he is one of the most well-known faces in District 2, a handsome champion with a great sense of duty, quick hands with the bow and arrow, and a very pretty mouth that says all the things you want to hear.

Our announcer leaves immediately, not bothering to make introductions.

A slightly awkward and electrified silence arises between us.

Arcadius is the first to speak and he drawls, "Well, well, here we go again."

"Names?" Elgar asked strictly.

"My name is Cato Riley, sir" Cato responds stoutly.

"Clove Ivy" I mumble.

Again, by looking at these victors, the same feeling of dread creeps over me.

I am not a victor. Far from it.

Maudrick finally looks up at us and his eyes land on me first.

"Hello, beautiful" he says, but he's neither teasing nor serious. He's just saying it apathetically.

I don't reply, and suddenly everything moves all at once.

Maudrick very suddenly and rapidly shoves the chair he is leaning on towards Cato. With a "oof", Cato falls backwards, when he is tripped by Arcadius' foot.

He falls to the ground ungracefully, but manages to pull Arcadius to the ground with him by grabbing the front of his robes and wrestles him to the ground until he is on top, with the obvious advantage.

Meanwhile, Athena has aimed a solid punch at my gut. I barely dodge the first blow and grab a butter knife from the table. But before I can do anything with the knife, her arm swings out and pushes me against the wall. She then slams her entire body into me, I feel the wind being knocked out of me.

She's barely breathing faster than normal, and here I am, gasping for air like a fish out of water. Still, with heavy effort, I slowly bring my knife up to her neck and whisper, "Dead."

Artemius smiles a little and comments lightly from behind, "We seem to have two proper fighters this time."

Athena backs away from me as Cato helps Arcadius up.

"You have to be prepared at all times" Elgar instructs quietly as Cato and I dust ourselves off.

"It's the only way to stay alive" Arcadius nods, straightening his robes.

"Sit" Elgar says shortly and we all sit; though I am wary about what other tricks our mentors have up their sleeves.

"As those chosen from District Two, you both have a reputation to hold. District Two has victored twenty-six times in the last seventy-three games. You must realize the advantages that brings to you, such as having five mentors and a supportive audience back home, but with those advantages comes the expectation to _win_, do I make myself clear?"

Elgar said all this barely above a whisper and yet every word seemed to hang menacingly in the air.

And though I was too frightened to speak, Cato didn't seem at all fazed as he answered stoutly, "Yes, sir."

Afraid my voice would squeak, I nodded stiffly to show that I understood.

"The first thing you need is sponsors" Artemis continued, and I could tell they'd all worked as a group before and each had their specialty which they excelled in.

Elgar's was general strategy essential to survival in the arena. For him the arena was chessboard with twenty-four pieces, and he could predict and read the field and arena and make the wisest strategic decisions like no one else. His next greatest weapon was his words, his skill at persuasion crowned him victor.

Artemis was the best at becoming a poster boy, winning sympathy, being presentable, gracious, and handsome. He knew how to impress sponsors, excel at interviews, and how to make worthwhile allies, though he was a master at archery as well.

Athena was all about stealth and assassination, hiding weapons in the right spots, and she was a champion at classic forms of weapons and hand-to-hand fighting such as swords, bow-and-arrow, daggers, spears, and wrestling.

Arcadius was all about power, physique, and drag-out-knock-down fighting involving not only broadswords, daggers, and poison darts but your head, fists, legs, and occasionally your teeth.

Maudrick was also about survival through sneakiness, deception, and stealth; his camouflaging, fire-making, knot-making, dagger-throwing, ability to fish, quick instincts, and ability to read other people's moves as desperate or secure allowed him to defeat his field.

As the train ride continued, Elgar began to teach us the very basics of survival involving water, fire, shelter, and weapons. Most of the things I'd already heard before, but the way Elgar described how they related to survival… they really _were _essential, and I'd better not forget it.

We took a break for dinner, having talked right through lunch. Elgar, Athena, and Arcadius all returned to their separate compartments after filling their dishes, but Artemis and Maudrick stayed with us at the table.

I was awestruck by the sheer amount of food on the table brought to us- District Two was fairly wealthy, but nothing like _this _had ever been presented, even for the mayor's birthday, which I had personally attended thanks to Valentine.

I reached over and took a huge roast chicken leg, as well as a large helping of stuffed mushrooms, a big dollop of sweet corn soup, a side of salad with some sweet raspberry sauce, and filled my glass with vystrant juice, a sweet strawberry and coconut concoction.

Hungry as I'd not eaten anything since last night, I was biting ferociously into the chicken leg when I realized that Cato was staring at me, one eyebrow raised. I realized I was being completely rude and unmannered at the table. Luckily, I don't blush easily. I caught his eyes and tried my best to look challenging and angry. He held my gaze for a few more seconds and then shook his head slightly before returning to his food.

"So", Artemis said, delicately cutting his stuffed mushroom, "since Clove has so cutely led us into the next topic, let's address it."

"Manners. Presentation. First impressions."

If anyone else would have said it, my temper would have raged, but the way Artemis said it, as though he adored me and was simply mentioning a beautiful talent of mine had me completely agreeing with him.

Artemis went through the basic layout of interviews and sponsors, again, things that we already knew, but things I was mesmerized to hear only because he was saying it.

"Now, as for your personas, we'll develop them as we go on, but remember this: people need to believe in you. You need to make them want to support you with everything they've got. Above all the other tributes. You can play on their sympathies or make them bet on you and they'll follow up with sponsors, but the key is: belief. Connect with your sponsors."

Cato leaned forward and began to ask, "Well, what-?"

His question was cut short as Maudrick suddenly flung a butter knife at my face. Too startled to react, I barely blinked as the knife nearly cut my eye, instead it swiped off a tiny piece of my hair before it pierced itself deep into the wooden grandfather clock behind me.

"Well, what?" Artemis proceeded as though nothing had happened, talking kindly and confidently to Cato.

"What if-?" Cato's question faltered a second time as I got up from the table and wrenched the knife out.

I study the knife for a split second, recognizing it as a GVK 74-9 before I hurl it across the room at Maudrick. Maudrick doesn't move an inch and the knife zips past him, as planned.

Silence reigns the room and a few strands of Maudrick's hair falls onto the tablecloth.

"Throwing knives are my weapon of choice as well" I tell Maudrick, as though this was an unprecedented and comforting coincidence.

No one moves, but as we finish our dinner with chocolate cake and all types of fruit, I swear I heard Maudrick chuckle under his breath.

* * *

I could not sleep. I kept thinking of my mother, my friends…

_I'm not supposed to be here._

As long as I was with Cato and the mentors, I could pretend like I was back at the Academy and keep my heart steady, but now… in this unfamiliar bed, absolutely alone, with the soft whirr of the train on the tracks… I can't help but think where this train is taking me to… and why it's taking me there.

District Two is fairly close to the Capitol, meaning it will only take three days to get there. Which makes it all the worse.

I toss and turn and finally sigh as I sit up. _I'm not going to find any sleep tonight._

I clamber out of bed and walk out to the main compartment, where the television is.

I sit on the couch, hugging my legs to me and turn on the television, to a very low volume.

I flip the channels until I see it- the tributes from other districts.

I try to watch it objectively- like I'm just a spectator, and not the future murderer or victim of these kids.

From District One, a very pretty but somewhat annoying blonde girl named Glimmer and a smirking, arrogant, and slender boy named Marvel were chosen.

I then watched our Reaping. How very plain I looked in an unkempt dress and messy hair and how my eyes narrowed towards Ariana with a mixture of suspicion, range, and defiance. And then, of course, Cato's proud voice, dominating any others who shouted out to volunteer. Luckily, the flicker of horrible shock I'd felt when he'd volunteered did not show on my face at all.

And then from District Three, a very muscular girl with bright blue eyes named Anastasia and a tall boy wearing silver glasses named Lxon both volunteered.

From District Four, a girl dressed in fancy petticoats, obviously rich, named Marina volunteered and an older, obviously dirt-poor, starved and gaunt boy named Rylan was picked.

From District Five, a red-headed and slender girl who looked like a fox was chosen, her name Alizanda, and her companion was a tan-skinned boy named Harmon who looked absolutely crushed to be picked as tribute. When no one volunteered for him, he cried silently.

From District Six, a rather unattractive girl (at least to me) named Lilian was picked and a young twelve-year-old boy named Ellios was picked. My back stiffened and my heart clenched when no one volunteered for him.

From District Seven, siblings were reaped. I closed my eyes as the two blonde children mounted the stage, trying to hold back tears. Their names were June and River.

From District Eight, a gorgeous girl named Evelyn was reaped and her friends cried when she left them. The boy was very fit and attractive, someone to watch out for, I could tell. His name was Aiden, with clear blue eyes and a strong jaw. He mounted the stairs on steady feet and defiantly looked straight at the cameras.

From District Nine, a tan-skinned and rather short girl named Jasmine was picked along with a boy who looked very unclean, with an untucked shirt named Jaspen.

From District Ten, a very intellectual and gentle-looking teenager named Benjamin with a slightly crippled foot and a very small, adorable girl named Cella was reaped.

From District Eleven, an extremely muscled boy named Thresh and a small, light-footed girl named Rue were chosen.

From District Twelve, their first volunteer, Katniss Everdeen volunteered desperately for her sister and a blonde-haired boy named Peeta was also selected.

A part of me was eager to enter the Games now that I'd seen the tributes. They weren't as difficult as half the tributes in previous games, and yet… that boy with the glasses, the boy with blue eyes, the boy called Thresh, and even that last girl, Katniss?

My lips pursed as I thought of ways to kill them.

Deep down, I knew that the Games weren't how they described to us in school- the pleasure of slaughter, the execution of practiced skills, the beauty of the arena, the adoration the audience gives you, the rewards you'd win, and the pride you'd bring for your District.

But if I thought too deeply, I wouldn't make it through the night.

So I tried to tell myself over and over again _Killing them is easy. Killing them is fun. _

If I began to think about the fact that all those people had lives... family they loved, friends they held dear, ideals they stood for... That each of them had someone to say good-bye to as I had my mother, although I hadn't had the chance...

No, _killing is easy. Killing is fun._

It was the only way to keep the trembling away.


End file.
